The California Club (37 page)

'Oh Mum, you should see this place.' I sink into a chair beside the flagstone fireplace. 'It's given me so many ideas for the B&B, I was thinking—'

'Lara.'

'What?'

'We've had an offer.’

My heart freezes.

'Have you said yes?'

'That's one of the reasons I'm calling. I thought it would be a wonderful birthday surprise but if you're not sure …'

I go to speak but I don't know what to say.

'They want an answer by the end of play today. They're offering the full asking price.'

I feel as though a huge bully is bearing down on me, blocking out all the sun in my world. The worst part is that he's here at my invitation – I told Mum to put the B&B on the market. I thought it was the only way. I didn't expect to feel like this. The more ideas I've had for the B&B the less I've believed I would lose it. I told myself it was history but I didn't really believe it. I even secretly started to hope that The California Club might help me come up with a solution.

'Lara?' Mum is still waiting for a response.

As I try and formulate a sentence I watch a family come through the main doors and take in their surroundings with a look with absolute joy and wonder. Suddenly I want that more than anything – to create a place that gives such pleasure, and yet happens to be my home.

'You were so keen to sell before.' Poor Mum sounds deflated.

'I know. I know,' I sigh, thinking of The Ahwahnee and the Beverly Hills Hotel, The Del in Coronado, the villa at La Valencia and my pink paradise here. Somehow I felt connected to them all because I was 'in the business'. Am I about to end that?

I take a breath and in my quietest voice instruct: 'Do it. Say yes.'

'Oh Lara!' Now Mum sounds in a quandary. 'What if I try and stall them? Give you a bit more time to think.'

‘There's no point. I can't afford it.' I have to be practical. What other choice do I have?

'Lara! Food's here!' Helen leans around the corner and beckons me back to the dining room.

'I've got to go,' I mutter, feeling dazed.

Mum sighs, then peps up. 'You have a wonderful evening, darling, don't let this spoil your fun. I'll put them off for one more day, we'll talk tomorrow.'

‘There's no point,' I complain.

'Lara Richards, I've known you since you were in my tummy, do you think I can't tell from your voice what you're really thinking?'

'Oh Mum!' I wail, tears springing to my eyes. 'I want it so much! Ever since I've been out here I've been bombarded with ideas to make our B&B the most welcoming and original place in all Brighton! The thought of losing it …'

'Hush now. You go and enjoy your dinner. Don't give it another thought. Just send my love to everyone.'

I steady my breathing. There's still a chance. I'll do as she says. I'll hush.

'Do you know Courtney Cox and David Arquette once stayed here!' Zoë greets me as I approach the table.

'Figures – have you seen how that man dresses?' Elise tuts.

'And Dolly Parton and her family are regulars!'

'That just about says it all,' Elliot chuckles. 'Before you get back in, La, I just need to …' Elliot escapes from the booth, putting his hands on my hips as he slides past me, front on. I'm fairly certain he's never touched me there before. At least, it never felt like this before.

'Where are you going?' Elise barks.

'To the toilet, if that's all right with you, my angel!' Elliot rolls his eyes and trots on his way.

'Fissure!' Zoë hisses in my ear as I slide in beside her.

I look for a sign from Elliot when he returns but his first words are not quite what I had in mind.

'I just peed into a waterfall!'

'What?'

'Instead of urinals they've got this water gushing down the rocks and you just—'

'Thank you, Elliot, I think that's enough information!' Elise cuts him short.

'You know, Mr Madonna once took a baby elephant into the men's toilets,' I announce, eager to show I've begun reading my birthday book. 'It belonged to a zookeeper friend of his.'

'Can you imagine peeing alongside an elephant?' Elliot winces. 'Now that would give you an inferiority complex!’

Everyone cracks up. Except Elise. No change there.

'You know what else?' Sasha looks unusually perky. 'There used to be a lion living on the grounds. A busboy from the café used to feed her and take her for walks in the mountains out back.'

'I never had you pegged as an animal lover, Sash,' Elliot looks intrigued.

'I know! Things have really changed this week.' Sasha smiles appreciatively at Helen.

'I would have thought either you liked animals or you didn't,' Elise shrugs.

Sasha takes a deep breath, as if she's psyching herself up to make a revelation.

'This is going to sound so silly, and I wouldn't even say it if the wine hadn't gone straight to my head, but ever since I was a girl I thought animals didn't like me!'

'Really?' I frown. 'Why?'

'Well, when I was ten my dad bought me and my sister a cat and it just took an instant aversion to me – it would always hiss and wriggle away if I tried to pick it up – I had all these scratches on my arms – but when Sonia did the same it would purr and nuzzle her and everyone used to say, "Oh that cat just adores you, Sonia!" and I always felt so rejected, like it could see right inside of me and didn't like what it saw. ‘ She shakes her head. ‘I was always so nervous of people putting two and two together and realizing that I was a fraud because the cat knew what I was really like.'

So that was what was creating all the panic as we approached Tiger Tiger!

'When I found out I was going to be around lions and such I thought I might be in serious danger.’

Helen reaches across the table to take Sasha's hand but is hampered by Elise lunging for the wine. She's certainly slugging it back tonight, shame it makes her stroppy rather than mellow – she's getting scratchier with every gulp. I think Zoë's probably right – the body language and sniping between her and Elliot seem to indicate an unresolved argument. Oh dear.

'But to be honest,' Sasha continues, oblivious, 'Ty was way scarier than the cats and after holding Theo—'

'A cub,' I chip in.

'And he didn't bite me or try to get away, it was just such a wonderful feeling, like being truly accepted!'

'Going back to your sister,' Elise begins. 'It's interesting that you begrudged her even a taste of the attention you were used to – one house pet responding positively to her when you had the entire population fawning over you. Did you want it all for yourself?'

'Elise!' Elliot admonishes her.

'It wasn't like that!' Sasha protests.

Great, trample all over her newfound happiness why dontcha?

'I'm not saying it was, that's just what they'd say at Breathe.' Elise denies all responsibility for her attack.

'Maybe the reason it was so upsetting for you, was that the response from the animal was what you valued the most,' Helen comes up with a different take on the situation.

'Yes!' Sasha's eyes brighten. 'I can't tell you what it feels like to have an animal trust you. It's given me such a boost.'

'Shame nature boy here doesn't share your enthusiasm!' Helen teases. 'Danced with any more raccoons lately?'

'I don't want to talk about it.' Elliot fills his mouth with steak so further questioning is in vain.

As the chatter continues and the dollop of sour cream melts into my baked potato, I find my attention drifting off towards the dance floor. There's barely a non-grey hair to be found but the double hip-replacement brigade are tinkering around the floor with such obvious delight it warms my heart. I watch a man rise from the table, turn to his lady companion and hold out an open palm to her. It's such an elegant gesture. For a moment I pretend it's my hand he's taking.

'Lara?' Elliot calls me back. 'What are you so transfixed by?'

I heave a sigh. 'I was just thinking how I want to be eighty and still be taken dancing with my hunched-over husband! It must be lovely to have someone to hold on to.'

'When was the last time you went out with someone?' Elise asks, blunt as ever.

'It's been a while,' I admit. I don't want to put an actual year count on it so I distract them with a tale of a one-night stand with a Ukrainian cruise ship percussionist.

'I didn't know about this!' Elliot complains.

‘It was just after you moved to Manchester – during our absent friend period,' I explain, cryptically referring to the spell when Elliot was in the first flushes of love with Elise.

'Do you know I met Elliot just two days after he arrived – it was as if he moved there to meet me!' Elise crows.

I don't know what Elliot did in his previous lives but he must have been a bad, bad boy.

‘And then there was the deckchair attendant and the cotton candy maker,’ I continue.

Elise quickly diagnoses fear of commitment on my part – choosing inappropriate men so there could be no chance of a future.

‘Or perhaps you make these farcical choices because you’re not clear on what you really want.’

‘Oh I know what I want. I just can’t have it.’

‘What we all want for you,’ Helen reaches for my hand. ‘Is for you to be with someone who loves you as much as we do.'

‘I’ll drink to that!’ Zoe raises her glass. ‘Now. Enough with the therapy nonsense. Let’s get serious for a moment – what are we having for dessert?’

Pink champagne, toffee crunch, lemon coconut, raspberry delight, black forest and banana nut. Six cake options. Six of us at the table. It seems only right that we get one of each.

'My boss told me I had to try them so this is actually work for me!' Helen gets ready to gorge.

All the girls reach for pink champagne first – topped with curls of pink chocolate that look like they've been set on rollers, it's a butter-creamy, fluffy sponge yum-fest. Elliot digs into toffee crunch, which is covered in smashed pieces of honeycomb. He doesn't have a particularly sweet tooth but we can see that we need to get in quick if we want a taste. All too soon there's nothing left but a few flakes of coconut and the stem of a glacé cherry.

Helen is impressed. The rest of us just feel sick.

'Shall we go through to the bar?' Elliot groans. 'I think I need a digestif!’

‘Sod that, I'm having a liqueur!' Zoë grunts as she gets to her feet.

We waddle through to the Silver Bar, taking a table beside the dance floor. Elliot orders the drinks and Sasha brings over a book of all the rooms for us to peruse while we're waiting for the sugar rush to pass. We're all quite tipsy so the images are a little blurry, but we get the general idea.

'Who chose the Jungle Room anyway?' Zoë asks, reacquainting herself with Elise and Elliot's den.

'I did,' Helen affirms. 'I thought it was the most masculine for Elliot.'

He chinks glasses with Helen knowing he could have easily ended up in some floral Valentine.

Elise says she would have chosen the Austrian Suite. Talk about delusions of grandeur – it's the poshest of all, 76 feet long, all mock Louis XIV and regal blue.

'I think the rock ones are the sexiest,' I decide. 'Look at Caveman!'

'Oh no!' Elise shudders. 'I already feel like Wilma Flintstone as it is.'

'Oh I'd love it,' I continue. 'It's so primitive – all tousled hair and animal passion!’

‘Tarzan and Jane!' Elliot enthuses.

'Makes you want to tussle and play-fight,' I growl.

'And drag each other by the hair!' he grins, staring straight at me.

'And get all mussed up and sweaty and whooping!' I'm drunker than I realized.

'And then cool off in the shower …' Elliot's voice drops.

'Water trickling down those raggedy rocks …' I gaze at him.

'But you might clip your elbow or slip and concuss yourself!' Elise is horrified at the thought.

Talk about ruining the mood! Perhaps they should install one of those old lady shower chairs for her.

'Look, there's one called Yosemite Falls – home from home!' Elliot laughs. 'You know, it's so weird – I've been surrounded by the real thing for the past three days and it does nothing for me and yet when you throw in a carpet and a TV I think it's the biggest turn-on!'

'Could've fooled me,' Elise mutters into her brandy.

Zoë looks fit to burst – see! See! Fissure! He's turned on and they
still
didn’t get it on.

I wonder if that's true. You'd think after time apart they'd be raring to go.

Sasha traces her finger over the leopard-print bedspread in the picture. 'I can't believe I've only got one more night with him.'

'If it's meant to be, you've got all the time in the world,' Elise mutters.

We look at her, startled. Which orifice did the romantic in her spring from?

‘That's not my personal opinion, I'm quoting Martha,' she tells us.

'What is your personal opinion?' Helen probes.

Elise pulls a face. 'Act fast, don't give him time to think himself out of it.'

Now that's telling.

‘That's what I was saying earlier.' Zoë leans forward to make her point. 'You miss that window of opportunity to get a snog and it's all too easy to start reasoning yourself out of it – doubting your compatibility and all that twaddle. That's why I always get in there early. Who wants to end up as just friends?’

As soon as the sentence is out of her mouth she gives me a regretful look and mouths, 'Sorry!'

I take a gulp of throat-ravaging Sambucca. This is all too close to the bone for me.

'Of course it can work the other way.' Helen has her say: 'Sometimes pining for someone while taking time to get to know them can really build up the desire and excitement.'

'But beware!' I slur. 'You can go too far with that!'

'How do you mean?' Elise wants to know.

'Oh you know, one day, after ten years of longing and frustration you'll simply spontaneously combust!'

The others look concerned. I've got to get a grip.

'Anyway, there's no set rules. You just do what you instinctively feel is right,' Helen soothes.

'That's all very well if you are in touch with your instincts,' Elise has to have the final word. 'There are women on my course who are so riddled with bad past experiences they don't trust their own judgment any more. Whenever a new relationship possibility comes along, it immediately triggers some hellish memory and they feel vulnerable and out of their depth and so they panic and behave in such a way that they push the other person away.'